After
by sateliteskin
Summary: Drabble based on if John 117 The Master Chief and Samus Aran started a relationship and the atmosphere that would develop around it, mostly unrelated ficlets. The world and events that lead up to each piece are decided by the reader. Halo/Metroid
1. Encounter

A/N: (REVAMP!) okay I'll be honest, this was totally just for fun. Fan fiction regarding this particular fandom has been pretty dry lately, so I thought "hmm, maybe it's time for me to contribute to the the community." I welcome criticism and feedback.

* * *

The disorientation of being in a bed besides his own kicks in as soon as John opens his eyes. Starting with the subtle way his senses seemingly lag behind his now revived consciousness; the time it takes for his vision to adjust to the dim lighting is longer than usual.

It is here John realizes just exactly how exhausted he truly is, and it's not the type of being spent that he is so often used to. The mattress beneath his back _shouldn't_ be this firm, nor should the barely audible sound of the ship's engine be so calming. The peaceful atmosphere of the room was... foreign, but not entirely unsettling, and the quiet being just soothing enough that John found himself falling back to sleep until he felt the stirring of another form beside him.

His sight settles on sharp eyes and a soft features that lie inches away from John's face, jogging his memory back to last night and its event, the explanation for the calm, almost blissful expression staring back at John becoming clear.

Samus blinks once and smiles silently as he begins to prop his arm onto the pillow, allowing his head to lay in his palm, bare skin once again exposing itself. John then finds himself studying her, but it's strangely only the minor adjustments in her appearance that he's intrigued by. Like the way Samus's hair has now haphazardly splayed over her face and shoulders, the importance of this detail escapes him, but nevertheless, he takes notice of it.

After some time, she finally comes to address him, "Hey."

"Hey," he almost immediately replies, a look of euphoria spreading over his face that mimics hers, "how long have you been awake?"

"Not long," Samus stretches, elongating and spreading her body against the sheets, "waited for you to get up." She smirks, "You pout when you sleep."

There's a moment of shared silence between them, as they clumsily smile back at each other, examining the small changes that have seemingly occurred over night in one another. It's a comfortable silence though, one that both parties feel is somewhat necessary to add to the experience of "the morning after". A period of time passes, and Samus shifts towards John, tucking her head underneath his chin while pressing a hand to paper white skin.

"John, are you— " she stops mid sentence, but it only takes those three, faintly uttered words for him to hear how painfully uncertain Samus sounds, and it's this hesitancy that resonates, settling uncomfortably in John's stomach.

With worry swimming through his thoughts, he lets his free arm wrap around her waist, holding her securely. There is no amount of words, no matter their syntax or diction that John could see himself say to soften the doubtfulness he recognizes in Samus's voice. The inexperience he has with the newly founded relationship forbids him to do so, and the only small comfort he can find giving to her is the light grazing of his thumb between her shoulder blades.

His actions are reward with a drawn out sigh as Samus settles into his embrace. Content murmurs escape into the space between them and it's quiet again.

John begins to discern that the movements of his whole person at this moment are smoother than last nights. When he could barely understand the direction his long suppressed libido was taking him, and the only thing he could hear was his breath and pumping of blood, feeding the fumbling of fingers and rashness of actions. _She_, on the other hand, was so calm, asking him constantly if they "needed to take things slow", and against the wishes of his pride, John would inevitably say yes. She was the one to start everything after all. The first instance of contact with infatuated intentions was her doing.

Samus briefly kisses his neck, the purpose of which is to end the physical contact they currently share, quickly followed by the announcement of her going to use the shower. She rises out of the bed, heading towards the bathroom, with a walk that looks to John like a shaky saunter. He too climbs out of the bedding, grabbing the nearest piece of his clothing and putting together his outfit from yesterday. It's gotten cold in Samus's living space now that she's left, and John would prefer to be dressed as fast as possible.

* * *

Hot water, steam, and confused assessments begin to fill the bathroom Samus now occupies, as she rests her head on the tiled wall in front of her, watching the liquid pool and drain beneath her feet, carried away to be purified and reused for future prolonged showers.

_ "John are you_— _Are you all right with this?"_

The contrast of the few moments Samus had spent watching John sleep compared to the cold, frustrated feeling crawling into her gut stood out in the forefront of her mind, and what started out as a elated morning had now somehow evolved in to an environment of second guessing and questions gone unasked.

As a responsible lover (a title she firmly believes neither her nor John will ever get used to) Samus felt obligated to ask him his feelings on their relationship, _when _she would ask him_, _however, Samus couldn't manage to predict. The spare minutes she had after awakening were spent meditating on exactly this, but when it came down to inquiring John's thoughts, she couldn't find it in herself to do so. After reflecting upon it further, immersed in the heated water and white noise, Samus understood why she failed to carry through, though admittedly she had already known for a while.

_ Because I can't bare an answer I don't want or expect._

Ten minutes later, the water is now off and Samus stands damp, listening carefully to water slip off her body and drip onto the floor. Everything around her is still, content. And for the hundredth time, she wishes that the galaxy and her personal life could be as serene as her ship's surroundings.

* * *

A sudden _woosh _and the bathroom's door to John's right opens with Samus exiting through it, now adorned in her blue skintight jumpsuit and a pensive expression painted over her face. John stands up from the bulkhead he was previously leaning on, where he patiently waited to for her to finish her bathing and whatever contemplations she had began gathering in the bedroom. John walks over to where she stands and, again, waits. For what specifically this time around, he does not know.

She begins sullenly, "John I need to know... if you're okay."

"Okay with what?" he asks as gently as he can.

"With—" Samus clasps the bridge of her nose, the difficulty she is having all that more apparent, "with _us_. With _me._"

John doesn't answer right away, not as he rapidly recycles the events leading up till then. Many, _many_ times last night he thought of himself unprepared for Samus's plans for them, as he awkwardly stumbled through the motions of intercourse. It was worth in though, all of it was, and with the shakiness he felt yesterday long since subsided, he welcomed the new shape his more private life seemed to be taking. John would eventually put his arms around her shoulders, and she later would settle her's around his waist, forehead pressed to his chest. He understood now how to treat someone as significant, _important_ as her, and it was another one of those things that he wished he could some how illustrate in words.

"I'm fine Samus. Are you?"

A dry, but lighthearted laugh rings out of her, "Yes. I am."

"Good." he presses his lips to the top of her head and breathes out, hoping the relief he hears in her reply is legitimate.


	2. Observation

It is during the third or fourth time they make love that Samus finally notices it.

Below shut, fluttering eyelids and a cognitive brow, past the long since healed scars, she begins to visually recognize the freckled flesh that dotes across John's face. Extending from cheek bone to cheek bone and over the bridge of his nose.

Any other person with a much less personal relationship with the super solider would perhaps soon forget or dismiss the existence of this facial trait, lacking any meaning to them besides that of trivial importance. Samus, however, couldn't seem to have the image of the spotted complexion leave her thoughts. Even as John buried his face into the crook of her neck, the harshness of his breathing —and then quickly her's as well— canceling out any other sound in the room, the memory of the visage still lingers.

Her reflection on this is only ever interrupted by releasing spasms and a long, guttural vocalization that is drawn out of the both them, followed by much softer panting, followed by John collapsing to Samus's left side, his hand brushing through his sweat soaked hair. With the amount of inhales and exhales she needs to take decreasing, Samus closes her eyes, basking in the heat that now dominates the Petty Officer's quarters.

It's isn't long before John is attending to her again, his cheek resting on Samus's collarbone as he watches her breath rhythmically in and out. In turn, she moves her hand to his scalp, letting it comb through short hair, stroking away any lingering perspiration that still attaches itself to the brown strands. A brief respite passes and John moves his lips against her throat, exhaling deeply, "Sorry."

The endorphins that now drench her brain drown out any initial concern regarding his words, "Sorry about?"

"I got a bit carried away with you," he states blatantly. "Was I too rough?"

Samus smiles to herself earnestly. There's a strange parallelism that's going on here and the doubt that John feels at the moment not unlike their first time, when she was unsure about putting him in the role they had since then became clearly satisfied with. She's supposes it's her turn now, to be the one to hold the others hand and reassure them that everything's fine.

"They're only hickeys John. It's natural for you to lose control sometimes, that's just sex for you."

He looks up to peer at her, perhaps making sure she's being sincere with him, "Are you certain?"

Samus matches the gaze with her own, "I don't mind a few marks now and then." she motions to sit up, "speaking of which..." John readily moves off of her, a touch of inquiry moulding his features as Samus shifts herself to kneel above him, her palms holding the sides of his face. "Who exactly did you inherit _these _from?"

He examines the way her eyes drift back and forth across the midsection of his face, "I don't know. Though if I were to guess, it'd be most likely from my father," he adds cynically, "I hate them."

"Well I _love_ them," Samus chuckles and presses her forehead to his, relaxing herself so that she lies atop of him, "you of all people would have freckles."

John envelops her sides, and is taken slightly aback at how light she feels even with her whole weight upon him, "Unfortunately, yes. Why'd you ask?"

"I'm just surprised that I never noticed it before," she acknowledges, and it feels like she's been wanting to say exactly this since she first became aware of said spots, "I thought I was more perceptive than that. Especially when it comes to you."

His brow furrows again, "You care about my wellbeing that much?"

"Yes, I do," she kisses him lightly, "I always do."

With that, the two eventually fold into their usual positions, John enclosing his arms around her small waist, taking in the scent of her hair every now and then as Samus drifts to sleep, put at ease by their brief conversation.

Almost as an after thought, John holds her closer to himself, whispering humorously into her ear, "Maybe if you weren't so distracted with screwing me every other day you would have noticed it sooner."

He receives a quick jab to the stomach.

"_Funny."_


	3. Dependence

AN: First, I'd like to say I've been utterly blown away by everyone's support. Whether it be through reviews, favourites, or subscriptions, you guys have made writing all that more enjoyable, thank you so much ;0; I'm not sure if I'm too happy with this chapter but I can always go back and fix things.

* * *

"How do you know him?"

The city tonight is screaming vibrant light and sound upon the planet, the glare of it all so bright it makes John's eyes water at times. To his left, a carbon monoxide billow dissipates into the chilled air and it's about the only thing that's giving away Samus's presence; the black matte suits that her and John wear integrate their forms into the rooftop's darkness flawlessly, save for a liquid shimmer that reflects off the material.

Samus exhales another moth-wing-soft sigh and bristles against a sudden updraft, "He's a fellow bounty hunter, one of the few that doesn't try and kill me on sight actually," a siren howls somewhere within the concrete jungle, discord layering onto discord.

"You seem close," John states before looking through the scope of his rifle again, spotting and taking note of the numerous civilians down below them. Civilians who, without the magnifying lenses, would look indistinguishable, undefined.

He particularly develops unfounded interest in a group of five that move unhurried through the neon streets. Two of the men —one older and taller than the rest, the other dark skinned, glowering slightly— argue half-humorously, while another male adorning an ornate tattoo on his shaved head smiles at their antics. A man and a woman with similar hair colors do the same as the other pair, but when John examines their eyes, he finds the expressions they convey to each other enamoured. Did he know these people? Because oddly enough, he feels perhaps he does.

"_Seemed_ close," Samus corrects, "we had a falling out a while back."

Their conversation on the subject matter concludes— and really, neither wants to dig any deeper than they should. If she wanted him to know more about her past lives or relationships, Samus would have, and John preferred avoiding altercations with her at all costs. Although part of him still felt irked by her silence on the matter.

Samus's occasional shivering however, unlike their recent exchange, does not end and out of the corner of John's eye, he observes her minor irritation to the weather eventually become fevered shaking bordering on full out tremors, "Samus..."

"I'm fine," she shudders violently, "just a little cold."

The weapon is lowered a second time for the night, carefully put off to the side as John moves himself to where his companion sits, and despite her protests, places the back of his now ungloved hand against her cheek, silently assessing her condition. He then precedes to gingerly remove the brittled fabric from Samus's fingers, the skin on each emerging to be strikingly red compared the pallidness of his own digits, contrasting even more so as they intertwine with hers, "You're freezing."

"And you're a tease," Samus watches John through downcast eyes as he breathes warmth into the space between them, the numbness in her hands promptly retreating as he does so, "what about your whole 'no flirting on the job' policy? We could miss our target doing this."

The bounty hunter leans into John, her hastily revived hands to his back as she mutters something about him being, 'too good for her,' and that's as far as they'll go for tonight. Anything more than even _this_ would be a compromise for both of them as well as the circumstances they were currently involved in. Still, John reminds himself that moments like these were scarce, depressingly so, and the thought makes him hold onto her longer than he would usually allow.

"They can wait."

The remainder of the night is spent wistfully watching the chaos flourish below. Lights flicker on and off on and off and the noise deviates time to time; a musician nearby their position sings on old Earth tune, and it's something about a baffled king composing for an ancient omniscience. Above it all, where luminosity isn't permitted, Samus still clings to John for warmth, and he without question supplies her with it.


	4. THIS IS NOT AN UPDATE D:

so hey you guys.

I'm going to start this quick note to you all with an apology; I'm sorry I haven't updated since forever and I know how much it sucks when you're in a relatively small fandom -such as the Halo/Metroid community- and you finally find a good fic that meets all your interests and BOOM! No more updates and no word from the artist u.u I've been there, and I feel obligated to let you guys know my deal.

Lately Halo and Metroid haven't been all that hot with me... I still love both pieces of fiction! Don't get me wrong! But mmmm I just found Other M really disappointing, especially when it came to Samus' portrayal as a character and although I did actually really enjoy Reach, the Halo franchise just hasn't met the same level of interest it once did with me. I haven't read any of the new books or comics and I don't know, I feel the franchise sort of slipping away from me and I'm not all that bothered by it.

All of this _does_ _not_ mean I will no longer be writing Halo or John/Samus fan fiction, on the contrary, I'm planning a story that will be a little more plot heavy than what I'm used to, but if I can get past the planning stage of it all, you guys might (and that's a grotesquely sizable _might_) see something up soon. However that does mean -I'm going to put this as plainly as I can- that I will no longer be working on _After _any time soon or in the foreseeable future. I just haven't been able to come up with any satisfactory ideas or writing for that matter and anything that's on my my laptop that I have yet to complete just embarrasses me as a writer.

I'm gad, actually no, _fucking elated_, that so many of you went ahead and followed and commented on my little collection of purple prose drabble, including that of one particular writer that I looked up to when it came to this type of fandom, which both surprised and made me feel like a million bucks. Thank you, _thankyouthankyouthankyou!_ You guys are amazing and If any of you want to talk to or follow me outside of FF (which will assuredly be few or none haha) PM me and I'll happily send you my dA or tumblr account addresses (sometimes I doodle stuff?) and we can friend it up over there.

okay, wow, this did not end up being a "quick note." :T


	5. Prose dump

AN: nope; still not updating this thing, but I am dumping a bunch of unfinished pieces that a select few might enjoy.

/winks because I'm a prick and I should know better than to come back to this thing.

* * *

It was rare for anyone to see Spartan skin, let alone touch, break or mend it. That was an occupation reserved for the prestigious medical staff and technicians who put together and dissembled the beings, and even then the profession had its drawbacks. It wasn't considered a privilege to witness the multitude of the soldier's scars. Both in the physical and physiological sense. Or admit that beneath all the armor, it's hardware, and the highly invested life long training, was a considerably damaged human being. No one wanted that responsibility,

To see Spartan skin meant it was either your job to do so, or in the Covenants' case, to tear it apart.

The marine who'd escorted Samus to Odessa's med bay pauses before keying in the door, turning towards her with a uneasy look on his face, "To be honest with you ma'am, the MCPO has been a bit on the edgy side lately."

From the moment she'd arrived, it was made clear to Samus that this visit would be that of an apprehensiveness one, the crew's mood only further reinforcing this fact, and why wouldn't it be? The recent Op the vessel was apart of had been a messy one, landing most of the marines in the same grimly implicated section of the ship John was on. And now, with the Warrant officer's hesitation to let her see him, Samus' concern became all the more pressing. She offers the man a scrutinizing look before questioning the comment, "How so?"

"It's—" he rubs his neck thoughtfully, "it's hard to explain, and I don't know the man well enough to tell you exactly what's off." The officer motions to the door and begins punching in the code, stopping again before he enters the last character, "Just... be gentle. We're lucky to have him back."

Samus simply nods at him as he opens the door, and she, finally able to do so, enters the room.

Inside, a very battle weary looking John lays on top of an examination table, devoid of any armor with his head loosely rolled over to one side and retinal focus not anywhere in particular. It isn't an unusual thing to see, considering what he did or let alone was, but that didn't mean Samus had gotten used to the sight. It pained her to see him like this, exhausted to the point of breaking down like the inhuman machine the UNSC made him out to be.

Although, John never did break, at least not in any way that was obvious to Samus.

The bounty hunter sits herself down on a chair placed nearby the sterile counter, leaving the door behind her to close as she touches John's shoulder... only to notice freshly healed, pink scars along his visible upper body and wonders if the glassiness in his eyes is a byproduct of pain medication.

"You look terrible," Samus mutters, lightly moving her thumb against the porcelain flesh as if it were to shatter should she press too hard, "more than usual, actually."

"Mmn that bad, huh?" and there's a sound after he says this, caught somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, but just as worn out as he looked, catalyzing Samus to brave placing her palm on the side of his face as John continued to regard her presence with a tired gaze, "I know that look, Samus; you can stop worrying about me, I get enough of that from Cortana."

* * *

_AN: the following was going to be a response fic to Colster's "Good night, John", but alas, I never did get around to completing it._

As depressing as it sounded, there weren't many moments in Samus' life where she felt totally at peace. Moments like that —where she could simply sit back and watch the galaxy toil over its affairs, and the only requirement she needed to meet was to constantly oxidize her blood— were fleeting at best.

That wasn't to say she didn't any time to herself. In fact, instances for indulgence were regularly found after the completion of missions, but it would be ever lingering afterthought of how the bounty hunter would find her next source of income that would always sully Samus's mood.

This, however, was a monumental exception.

During the past few days, John had managed to secure an informant who would supply them with much needed data regarding one of their targets. The meeting with this man (slash women, slash whatever, she wasn't sure exactly who to expect) was arranged to be at a public setting, midday, characterizing this particular exchange as very casual and laid back, something which Samus had no objections to when tasked with doing most of the talking; the Chief never was much of a conversationalist.

* * *

_AN: I know I posted this when it was further away from being finished but I got a lot of positive responses to it so here we go again..._

When Samus asked if John could take shore leave for a few days, he believed —And wrongly so— the implications of her question would be much more... enjoyable.

"_I was invited to some sort of formal GF gathering," she'd put it plainly, "and I was thinking, maybe, you'd like to come along?"_

The man who watches John as he quietly adjusts every faction of his dress uniform does not look happy, and when the reflection's eyes meet his, their frowns deepen when they realize the dark shade of the suit only heighten the paleness of John's skin color.

"The last thing I need right now," he growls to himself, fixing the cap, "is to be self conscious."

"What are you talking about, I think you look amazing," Cortana's familiar disembodied voice comments.

John exits out of the bathroom and into the ship's cockpit where the avatar's tiny form resides amongst the mess of diagnostic screens; most of which are not in use.

She stands there, hands at her hips (a seemingly favorite stance of Cortana's) with an amused smile, but it's the hint of perversion that he recognizes in the hologram's "face" that makes him all the more uncomfortable.

John folds his arms over his chest, raising one eyebrow at her, "As an AI, are you even able to determine physical attractiveness?"

"I just call them as see them, Chief."

"Right," he leans against the doorframe, tilting his head backwards and breathing exasperatedly through his nose. Thinking about it now, John had no idea how the construct managed to get herself away from ONI and aboard Samus' ship. Though part him ponders that the two of them had somehow conspired together to make Cortana's presence a possibility. Which begged the more important question why exactly the AI would want be with them in the first place...

"I don't appreciate an invasion on my personal life, Cortana," and even to him, this statement sounds abrupt, if not a little standoffish.

"What? Oh, God no!" She awkwardly laughs, something that has always sounded to John like pieces of glass clicking against one another, "I just enjoy teasing you when you're like this, it's not every day I get to see my Spartan out of his armor. And you do look nice."

"My apologies then," he adds thoughtfully, "I'm just a little... unnerved right now"

She waves him off, appearing to be unfazed by the previous accusation, "besides, a could care less about what you do with Samus when I'm not around—"

"We're just friends," John immediately interjects, to which Cortana just shrugs. Although in the back in his mind he knows this statement to be only partially true.

As of late he had began to see the bounty hunter, for lack of better words, differently. In a way in which he felt both protective and found of Samus.

It wasn't like it was a type affection he hadn't experienced before hand, he had felt it for his Spartans, fellow soldiers, mentors, and of course, Cortana, but it was the degree of this endearment that bothered him. John had progressively begun to long for Samus, and this was an urge he knew he couldn't have.

"So tell me," Cortana's query breaks in and ultimately terminates John's musings, and he concludes that this is for the better, "where exactly is your 'date' anyway?"

He hooks his thumb over his shoulder, "In her room, getting ready."

"Well she looks about done to me," the AI cocks her head to the side as her eyes fix themselves to the area behind John. A quick check of the motion, and John turns himself around to investigate.

_AN: ...Then Samus got drunk, but I didn't bother writing it out._

"I'm not tired," she declares, "plus I— I feel like doing something tonight."

John continues placing her down onto the bed, wholly unconvinced by Samus' self assessment as he does so, "Like what?"

"Mmm, not sure, actually..." she trails off, head lolling to the side sluggishly as her body finally settles onto the mattress, succumbing to its natural fatigue and induced intoxication.

A quick affirmation of Samus' unwillingness to move from this position, and John steps away from her, unbuttoning and peeling off the jacket of his dress suit, preparing to retire for the night. All the while, still keeping an eye on Samus, making sure she didn't get up and go on to aggravate him further.

"Well," she starts again, and when he looks back at her, the bounty hunter flashes a suggestive grin, looking him over immodestly, "we could fool around."

John freezes in place.

Out of all the things he had anticipated her drunken brain to propose, to think of or even will the rest of Samus to do, out of all of these possibilities, that was absolutely not something he had even begun to think about. In the heavy soundlessness that hangs between them, John counts himself breath twice and his heart beat an immeasurable amount of times, but now her lips are starting to move again, unnaturally slow as they gradually form words, "What d'ya say, Johnny?"

Samus practically purrs out the rest, and the innuendo makes the skin on the back of John's neck quiver. He clears his throat once, trying his best to look composed.

"Aran," the Petty Officer chooses the name carefully, shaking his head in a chastising manner to add to his disapproval, "you're far too drunk and I'm too sober for me to even consider that..." he sets the jacket to side as he sits down beside her. "You don't need me right now, or any other man, or sex for that matter. What you need is sleep."

She stares up at him, eyes glazed over as something very soft —John is unable to name the exact expression— washes over her, "I know I don't need you," she murmurs, "I just want you tonight, so please?"

John feels heat creep into his face and becomes all the more grateful for Samus' impaired sight and the darkened atmosphere of the room, "Sleep."

As he begins to stand up, wanting nothing more than to leave the depravity of the situation behind him, a slender arm reaches for John, "Can we start somewhere simple then?"

He sighs, and gives in to entertaining her question, "Such as?"

"Come're for a moment."

To John's disdain, Samus doesn't elaborate. Not as she pulls him down to kneel before the bed, and he scolding himself for not stopping her as she does so. When he finally arrives to her eye level, John refuses to meet the intense gaze that stares holes into him, knowing full well that the woman in front of him will only take pleasure in this defiance. Entertained by his last futile defense against her advances... He does eventually force himself to look at her though, but only when John becomes keenly aware of Samus' hand at the back of his head, and her lips to his.

As his knees dig into the rubberized floor, John surprises the both of them when he leans into the kiss, and in return, Samus gladly does the same.

When she finally does pull away, and it seems like forever before she does, he resumes looking away from the bounty hunter, which isn't an easy task to accomplish considering just how small the space between them is.

"We shouldn't be doing this." he breathes, and they really shouldn't. John recalled from his earlier years when Victor 101 from Black team had developed an unauthorized romance with his team leader, and when Mendez found out, he'd put them both in the brig... which resulted in said team leader losing her eye from a vicious beating.


	6. You Have Been Missed

woah okay it's been a while

So one of the downsides of this site that I find in particular is that you can't really communicate with your audience outside of what you post which is a shame because back in the day, I was pretty fond of you guys ;))))) eheheh

_Anyways!_ I thought I might as well check in on this little slice of the internet and boy...

The decline of writers and material for this community isn't all that surprising to be honest; Things change! As do peoples' hobbies and interests and yeah sure, I happened to be one of those people who kinda got a bit more than tired with both halo and metroid as inspirations and walked away from the whole thing, which isn't to say i don't think about it now or then.

In fact, the other day, I had prepared myself to re-read Transcendence again, which I'm sure many of you still remember, as it's kinda hard to forgot such a great piece like that especially considering how small the fandom which it focussed on was. But (as to my shock and horror) i found it no longer available to read, which is part of the the reason to why i'm currently writing this. (Smoothy, if you ever do end up reading this inane log o' mine, just wanted to say I miss you and your work buddy! and that I hope life is treating you well and if you wanna jam with me some time, l'm all ears)

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm still very much attached to this fic and its extended community, sort of like an old toy from your childhood that you can't throw away and catch yourself fooling around with sometimes. I hope all of you -those who read what I ended up "writing" and who were a part of the whole Halo/Metroid thing when it was still up and around and kicking- are doing well and a thousand thank you's for indulging in whatever i decided to throw (as in _blehhhh_) up on this site.

So yeah

Take care c:

(I wonder how many of you will actually end up seeing this ramble, _hmmmmmmmm)_


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